


The Cost Of A Life

by Waveswriting



Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Anxiety, Depression, Fires, M/M, Multi, Nightmares, Other, will update from chapter to chapter
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-05
Updated: 2018-11-23
Packaged: 2019-08-19 11:46:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,797
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16534001
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Waveswriting/pseuds/Waveswriting
Summary: Virgil has constant nightmares that plague his every night, him surrounded by fire. The nightmares also haunt his waking life as he has the power to sum fire with his own hands, and none but one knows. After one dream from an old friend, he is sent down a spiraling pathway of his long forgotten past. He finds out what happened to cause him the mysterious power to come upon him, and why he has the loss of his memory from when he was young and who he was.





	1. Prologue

He watched the fire dance across his fingertips, eyeing the way that the yellow mixed with red to create a vibrant orange that reflected off the metal of the bedside lamp beside his hand. The glowing only lasted for a few seconds before he put it out, encasing the room in darkness once again. He shut his hand, sighing at it as if he could see his shut fist through the thick dark that was in front of him.

The power he had was dangerous, and he dare not use it or let it show unless he’s alone, only he knew he wasn’t. Except for his husband that slept soundly beside him every night, he knew there was another person, or force, watching his every move as if it is ready to strike but it never does. Ever since the incident, this power has remained a secret from everyone. No matter how close he was to someone, he avoided saying anything about it. It plagued his mind as all he did was want to speak out about the power he had, what he could do, but he kept it buried in his mind for as long as he could remember.

One person saw what it was, what he had. They were kids and the secret had spread around the school so fast that the kids at school thought that they were lying, and ultimately got bullied so much that they were split up by getting transferred to different schools. From then on he vowed to not let anyone see it again to avoid those close to him getting hurt. 

His waking moments were spent in constant anxiety, he hoped that when he slept that he would get a break from it all, but it is as if he was cursed all those years ago. His nights were restless as he was brought to a room with the same pitch black darkness his bedroom is at midnight. Only when he reaches out, he touches nothing where there would usually be his husband or bedside table. 

Heat encompassed him. Flames were higher than a tree, he could feel it, only he couldn’t see it. They were so hot and he couldn’t escape it no matter where he walked or sat or stood. The flames were there and they were not leaving till he woke. No matter how much he knew it was fake, this world would not let him change it as it would usually when he was younger. It forced him to remember the price he paid to save another. The price he would pay again if the opportunity were to rise.

The screams that came from his lungs only echoed back through the crackling of the flames, his voice barely going hoarse no matter how long or how loud he cried out for help, he knew help would never come. By the time he woke, his husband was waiting to comfort him. It was hard not to wake up when the person you’re sleeping next to is thrashing around and screaming in his sleep. A few minutes spent in that hell was really a few hours or more in real time, waking at midnight or one in the morning. 

His husband was so calm, making sure to hug him close and rub his back, pressing his hair back into a uniform place and wasn’t sticking up all over the place. He calmed him to place where he could recite the dream and every night it was the same. Darkness, warmth, fire, burning, screaming, waking. Some nights it grew tiresome to continue to comfort him, but it became a norm. So if it were the odd time that he didn’t wake, both would be awake anyways out of routine. It would take hours for them falling back asleep, getting up and wandering down the stairs to make tea or coffee, maybe grabbing a snack or 2. 

He knew that he couldn’t handle these situations on his own, as he saw how anxious he was in his waking life. Constantly looking over his shoulder as if anyone could attack at any moment. Every time he asked why he did that, or why he had those nightmares, he only got one answer every time,

“Magic always comes with a price.”


	2. Chapter 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The morning starts off... well off to say the least. Virgil's dream is different with a friend from the past he doesn't remember showing up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Word Count: 2080
> 
> Warnings: Nightmare mentions, fire, near-death mentions, death mentions, panic, if there is anything else please let me know!

Patton woke to the warm sun bleeding through the open window, letting a soft breeze blow through and fill the room with a chill. The way the day had started was enough to throw Patton off already. Usually, he would wake up to the kicking and hitting of his husband’s body against him in the panic of the constant nightmare that plagued his dreams.

If that didn’t wake him, both of them would wake up out of routine, but that didn’t happen either. He slept a full night.

Opening his eyes, they landed on the window, seeing the bright blue blinds attached to their clips to keep them held back. It looked like it was done carelessly, as pieces weren’t fully attached and were instead being blown aside by the constant wind filtering into the room. Maybe Virgil was sitting at the window last night and that was why it was done that? He never knew how to properly use the clips so it made sense why they would look that way.

Rolling over, eyes shut again, he attempted to wrap an arm around Virgil and tug him close for a morning cuddle. Only his hand was met with the empty side of the bed. His eyes flung open once again as he sat up, seeing the blanket thrown aside and in a tangled mess. Half on the bed and the other half falling off.

Looking around the room he spotted clothes in piles, drawers half open and clothes falling out of them. It looks like a tornado came through half the room. Throwing back his own covers, Patton sprung to his feet and threw on a nearby sweater.

A loud clang that sounded from downstairs only made him rush faster as his feet seemed to work faster than his mind and he nearly tripped going down the stairs. Mumbled curses came from the kitchen and Patton ran in there, seeing Virgil bent over picking up dropped pans. He had yet to notice Patton.

Virgil was running around as if he was a chicken with his head cut off, in a huge panic. Pots were being thrown out of cupboards, drawers opening and slamming shut after a dig through. He was searching for something.

“Virgil?” Patton asked while he slowly walked forward, careful to not get too close in case he gets scared and accidentally hurts him. Wouldn’t be the first time that happened. His husband jumped and threw himself around, swinging his arm with him, just missing Patton’s nose by a hair. Patton squeaked and flinched back.

“Patton!” Virgil exclaimed and ran at him, grabbing his shoulders in a tight grip. His eyes were wide and bloodshot red, which only happened if he had been staying up for hours when he technically wasn’t supposed to be. “Something else happened in my dream!”

He started rustling around in a drawer, finding something as he held it up with a victorious cheer. “Found it! Look look look!” He pulled the other close again and pointed at the photo. “Him. He was in my dream. I saw him. He talked to me.”

“Okay, I think we should sit down,” Patton breathed out, shaken from the constant jerking Virgil was doing to him, guiding said person towards a kitchen chair and slowly lowering him onto it. The entire time he was staring at the photo and poking at it.

Patton pulled a chair over to sit in front of him, setting the photo aside and holding his hands. “He said I saved him, Patton. Saved him.” Virgil pants as he looks at him, relaxing at the contact his husband provides. “I haven’t saved anyone…”

“Well, now that can’t be true. I’m sure in some small way you’ve saved someone.” Virgil shakes his head, looking at the photo with a soft look in his eyes as if he knew the guy, but Patton had never seen this man before. He knew everyone Virgil did.

“He… he said that a saved him. As a little boy before I moved towns. Said he was alive because of me and if I weren’t to save him then he wouldn’t have met who he is with today.”

Patton slipped one of his hands from Virgil’s and grabbed the photo, turning it and gazing down at the man in the photo. It was taken a few years back, based on the date on the back of it. The man was standing with another, clearly in love as they looked at each other with the love he had only seen in Virgil and him.

A gentle finger was laid just above the man with the glasses. “His name is Logan. He told me that that night he had been looking at the stars and got distracted. So distracted that he didn’t hear the fires from downstairs.

His parents hadn’t been home at the time, the babysitter left him to go to a party. By the time it was too late the leave the flames had already reached his room. I climbed the window cause I saw him panicking, scared to jump from it. I showed him how to get down safely.”

Virgil’s story was cut off with a soft chuckle and a rub of his eyes. “He’s an astrologist. Became one after I saved him and said that ever since that night he vowed to not let me down. I could have gotten really hurt saving him, he wanted to make it worth it by trying as hard as he could to succeed.”

Patton scanned over the photo as he spoke. It was a full body picture of the 2, and he and Logan looked so much alike but so different. Logan had plain black hair, Patton’s was a light blue on the top. Both had black glasses only Patton’s were rounder. The same type of clothing, only his were darker and had a brain on the left breast while he had a heart.

The man he was with looked so much like Virgil, the only difference was that this man had bright red hair and Virgil had a medium purple, Virgil was also smaller than, what seems to be, any of them.

“How…” He didn’t know what to ask, there were so many questions that were to be asked and it was hard to formulate one. “What was the dream like?” He looked up at his husband and scanned over his eyes. They were still trained on the picture in Patton’s hands with a lost look.

“Exactly the same,” he sighed out. “The darkness and flames were still there, I could feel them but this time I couldn’t hear them. I was confused and I couldn’t tell why.

It took some walking around to figure out that question. He was walking around just as confused, wondering why his dream was different all of a sudden. His was way different than mine. For his dream he could see walls and fire, only he couldn’t really feel the flames. Said he constantly heard cries for help. Though it felt like I wasn’t even speaking, I guess I was.”

Patton set the picture down and held his hands tight again, soothing the way they were shaking as he spoke. He’s never fully understood why these dreams had impacted Virgil so much, he had them so often it felt like he should have gotten used to them by now.

Whoever this Logan is, it must mean tons to Virgil to warrant this reaction. There was still lots of each other's life that were left hidden, and this was a big part that he had never known about, and it was enough to cause Patton to wonder if there were other moments that made Virgil so cut off.

He had spent years getting him to open up and tell him what was bothering him, and he had succeeded. Apparently, he wasn’t as successful as he once thought he was.

With a sigh and the shake of his head, Virgil stood and started looking through the drawers again. “I told him I didn’t remember anything from that time, and he said that I was given a picture by my mom from his that was used in the newspaper story for that.

“I remember my mom giving me a little pack of pictures a few years ago before she died. She said I would need them in the future. I thought they were pictures of me and my siblings to make get along and remember times that we did get along at one point. I guess they weren’t.

Patton stared at his husband for a little while longer, watching him sift through all the drawers of the kitchen again. Before he had to get to the last one, he stood and walked over, making sure to keep the drawer shut so it couldn’t be thrown open. “Please rest, honey. Who knows how much sleep you got last night.”

Virgil’s eyes all of a sudden got heavier as Patton said that, slumping forwards to fall into his husband’s arms as the sudden weight of exhaustion fell onto him at once. It seemed like he had been up all night, except for the dream that occurred.

With a huff and a tight grip, Patton began to lead Virgil back to their room. While it was 10 in the morning, to Virgil it probably felt like midnight, and as much as he swears he stays up late, that isn't the case. He can’t function if it were like that.

The dream could occur at any time of the night, and he wanted to get as much sleep as possible before he was shaken awake. No matter how many doctors they had been to, or how many medications he had taken, nothing could keep him from waking.

Getting back to their room, Patton laid Virgil down in bed, tucking him in before he shut the blinds, turned off the lights, and left, making his way down to the kitchen and deal with the mess in there.

In the heat of the moment the kitchen didn’t seem like a big mess, but now when he got a better look at it, that was not the case.

All the papers that were once neatly organized were strewn about the floor. Bills thrown to the other end of the room, notes for future dates and events torn out of the schedule book they were placed in. There were pens and their cases scattered across the room, one exploded, several lids came off. Sticky notes stuck to the floor, glue sticks open, random spills all over the floor from fallen glass, several spots where broken glass was scattered around.

With a heavy sigh, Patton began to clean, making sure that he slipped on shoes so he wouldn’t stab his feet with the glass that was laying around. He just hoped that none got stuck into Virgil’s feet.

A few hours passed, and Patton had just finished cleaning the kitchen when there were footsteps that walked up behind him and a pair of arms wrapping around his waist. Deep breathing was felt against his neck, relaxing the one being held a great amount into the person behind him.

“I’m sorry…” a mumble sounded against his neck, causing the other to smile at the tickling sensation that sparked up.

“It’s alright,” Patton says softly, turning the tap off and moving to face his husband, placing his hands onto his waist.

“But I made a mess.”

“Which is okay, dear. You had a lead to why you have the dreams or a potential lead I should say. I would have acted the same way.” It was clear in Virgil’s eyes that he still felt bad, a drowned look in them.

“But let’s not worry about that now,” he quickly said. “Shall we go out for breakfast? I am in no mood to cook,” he finishes with a yawn, covering his mouth.

Virgil chuckled and nodded, pecking his husband’s nose. “More like a brunch, but sure. I’ll grab the keys.” Releasing from Patton’s hold, Virgil made his way to the front, grabbing the keys to their car, and helping Patton slip on his hood.

“I can do it myself,” Patton stated as he turned to face the other.

“And yet you still let me put it on you every time we go out.” Virgil put his own, smiling at Patton’s pouting face, kissing his lips gently. “Let’s go.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it took me so long to finish the chapter! I have been super busy with work and school (and coming up with new book ideas that I am very excited to share with you guys. Please comment in what you liked or if you have something I could work on as a writer, feedback is very important. Check out my tumblr @whats-going-on-kiddos for my ss writing stuff, and my original work that I will be posting over at @waveswriting


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